


Crimson Embrace

by Valkohai



Series: The Crimson Embrace [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Bloodvines - Freeform, Body Horror, Cat AntFrost, Centaur Awesamdude, Crimson Arc - Freeform, Crimson Egg, Cults, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demon BBH, Gen, Graphic Description, Gross, Horror, I just wanted to practice horror imagery, I just wanted to write about gross aliens tbh, Inspired by John Carpenter's The Thing, It's just Sam having a bad time, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mind Control, Possession, The Crimson, There's like no plot here, This isn't a fun read, Violence, hivemind - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28823691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkohai/pseuds/Valkohai
Summary: Sam works up the courage to set his friends free from the awful clutches of the Crimson, shame his friends disagree.
Relationships: Antfrost & Darryl Noveschosch, Antfrost & Darryl Noveschosch & Sam | Awesamdude, No Romantic Relationship(s), Sam | Awesamdude & BadBoyHalo
Series: The Crimson Embrace [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113350
Comments: 9
Kudos: 89





	Crimson Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> T.W: Body Horror, and Graphic Mutilation.

Sam was outside, quietly sitting along the outer base of the prison he was steadily constructing, with the forelegs of his lower half dipping slightly into the water below, a slight breeze chilling his fur. He was currently on a break, taking the time to cleanse his fur from the smell of soot and sulfur that comes with working with brimstone and obsidian. Normally on these sparse breaks, he’d take the time to plan out what he’d build next, maybe schedule a hangout session with Ant and Bad, but such thoughts were scarce with his mind flickering a hundred miles a minute.

It had been days since Sam had last seen his Badlands compatriots, he hadn’t even heard the edge of a word from them, a matter of fact. The last time he had seen Ant and Bad, they were muttering illegible words under their breath, whispering and chanting about that accursed egg. 

Had Sam not known any better, he’d dare to say the two were intentionally avoiding him, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Sam remembered well how the two had acted when he last saw them, so utterly captivated by the egg that they dared not leave its side; acting like it was a living, breathing person with thoughts and feelings when it _wasn’t_.

A loud, tired sigh escaped him. This was getting ridiculous, if that egg was starting to get in the way of their friendship, then it was time to do something about it. Though, what exactly _could_ he do; cut it down, blow it up? It wasn’t like Bad or Ant would let him near it, let alone close enough to actually touch it. 

_Unless…_

He could just try to pretend; tell them he adored the egg as much as they did. He knew how much the pair wanted Sam on their side, so they’d probably be too elated by the news to look into Sam’s sudden change of heart. 

With newfound resolve, Sam shakily stood from his spot, spurred on by the possibility of seeing his friends acting normal again, and starting making his way to the dugout where the egg resided. The prison could wait in the meantime, it wasn't like Dream would mind him taking time off after all his hard work. 

His feet crunched under soft grass and dead leaves, the latter becoming more and more common the closer he got to the entrance pit. As he walked, he observed the long red vines, glowing ruby in the sun as they curled tightly around nearby trees and buildings, suffocating them in their mass. Even the dirt path he stumbled along became clustered with them, giving Sam a personal look at how they pulsed with life; pulsed with _blood_ — 

Such an up-close look was interesting, Sam was ashamed to admit. He couldn’t blame Ant and Bad for becoming so entranced with them, they were _almost_ beautiful. 

Still, Sam wouldn’t let himself become distracted. He had a rescue mission to attempt, after all. 

After a short walk, Sam eventually found the entrance to Bad’s dugout; it was an odd little hole in the ground, one Sam could hardly squeeze through, with a faint red glow admitting from it, pulsating in time with a heartbeat that wasn't quite his own.

He pushed through the hole, kicking up dirt with his hind legs as he squeezed through. It was a tight fit and it was difficult to properly get his hindquarters through, but he managed to slip past, widening the holes entrance some. 

The rest of the way in was significantly easier and he fell down the rest of the hole, landing in the small pool of water at the bottom. 

Sam huffed as he stepped out of the pool, shaking spare water from forelegs. Almost there now. 

His claws clicked against the polished stone as he walked closer and closer to his final destination. 

_Click_. One step and he was approaching a turn in the andesite cavern.

_Tap_. Two steps and he could make out the tunnel leading down to the egg, t͢h͠e̢ Cri̸ms͘on.

_Click, tap._ Three steps and he was descending down down _down_ , where that accursed egg was; the thing that afflicted his friend’s minds, that turned them against him, that m̶͠ą̴͞d͢͠e ̸t̨̨h̴͟e͝m͝҉ ҉͝u͘n̷͘i̷̸̵m̴a̛gi͏͏n̶͘a̡b҉l̵͟y̶̧ ̷̨͝h̴̵ą͜͟pp̨͝y͜ ̨d͢͢on̶̷͞’̴͢t̵҉͝ ̸̧̛yo̕u͏ ̕͞w҉͜a̶҉̡nt̕ ̕t͟ơ̶͝ ̷̸b̴̨e͢͞ ҉̡h̶a̛pp̕͏y̸̨ t̡ǫ̡͜o͘͝ S̸a̧̨m̨͜͢?

_Click, click. Tap, tap._ Four steps and he was finally staring down the base of Bad’s dugout cavern; staring into the very room where the egg resides. 

The cavern, once clean and spotless, was now crawling with blood-red tendrils of various sizes. They wiggled and writhed along the floor and up the walls, reaching for any surface they could cling to. Some had even grown their way to the ceiling only to begin growing towards the cobbled floor once again, the tips covered in silky crimson petals and shimmering ruby buds. The thick bodies of the tendrils were damp and covered in a plush velvet lining, oozing a globular pink substance from their tips. 

Shuddering, Sam peered deeper into the cavern, squinting into the faint glow the egg provided. 

Sitting around the egg was Ant and Bad. Ant was lying down, curled up in typical feline fashion beside one of the egg’s many glowing maroon pustules. Sam could dimly make out the thin tendril sprawled limply across his back, the end dripped with the pink liquid, smearing it absentmindedly into the cat’s fur. Bad, unlike Ant, was standing upright, simply staring at the egg in something akin to admiration. The demon’s signature cloak obscured his form, stretching from head to toe. If there were any tendrils wrapped around his figure, then Sam couldn’t see them. 

Sam whispered a quiet, u҉ņ͝h͟͢e̡ąr̶͠d͜ prayer under his breath as he started creeping towards the pair. Thankfully, the two had their backs to him, too entranced by the egg to acknowledge his approach, buying him some time to properly think of his next action. After all, how does one go about telling their friends that they wanted to join their egg cult? 

He was halfway across the room now, fully intending to take a few steps closer when _—_

_Squish_. 

The sound caused Sam to freeze, eyes darting to the source of the noise. Looking down, Sam saw that he had stepped on one of the smaller tendrils. It’s sleek form squirmed underneath his forepaw, wriggling between his toes as it desperately tried to wrap around his foot. The feeling caused him to shiver harshly and lift up his paw, shaking off the slime that now coated it. The attempt was fruitless, and the substance stuck to his fur like glue, much to his dismay. 

To make matters worse, the ruckus had alerted his two compatriots, though only Bad turned around to face him. The cloak’s hood hid the other’s face well and Sam couldn’t even make out Bad’s pale irises. The only thing he could really see were the pointed ends of two horns, one’s that were steadily growing up and curled slightly around the demon’s head. 

“ _Sam_ ,” He hissed, his head jerking down slightly. His voice was unreadable, making Sam wish that Bad hadn’t worn that damned cloak when he discovered the egg. At least then he’d be able to get some sort of tell from the other’s facial expressions. “ _What are you doing here?_ ”

Sam gulped nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing in place for a moment. He hoped that Bad couldn’t tell how anxious he was. It was now or never. 

“I want to join you. I want to join the Crimson.” 

Bad’s head cocked to the side, leaning down. “ _Hmm, that’s nice Sam, but…_ ” He trailed off, suspicion evident in his tone. “ _How do we know that you aren’t fooling us, you’ve taken action to stifle the glory of the C҉͡r͟i̶ms̴ǫn̴̸ once before, who’s to say you simply aren’t trying again?_ ”

This was bad, very, _very_ bad. He had been banking on them just blindly accepting him, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case. Sam inhaled sharply, this wasn’t all terrible, he could still fix this. All he had to do was convince Bad that he _really_ wanted to join, and what better way than to mix truth with a lie? 

“Because I-I” He faltered, collecting his thoughts together. He _had_ to make this sound believable. “I miss hanging out together in the Badlands, I miss coming up with anarchist schemes, I miss _you_ , Bad!” 

Sam paused, reaching up a claw to wipe at the corners of his eyes. “Good friends support each other, Bad, and I haven’t been a very supportive friend. I’ve come to join you, and hopefully, rectify my mistakes. If you’ll let me, that is.” 

Bad didn’t move, not even a twitch could be seen. Sam felt dread pool in his stomach, this _had_ to work. 

After what felt like an eternity, Bad shifted, slowly approaching the gold-plated Creeper. 

“ _Aw, Sam, of course, we’ll let you. The C҉͡r͟i̶ms̴ǫn̴̸ is forgiving, after all._ ” Bad chirped, cheerful. The words alone were nearly enough to make Sam’s heart stop from relief. He had believed his lie, now all he had to do was blow that egg to high-hell. 

Bad continued his advances, speeding up the closer he got to Sam. The middle of the Demon’s cloak slowly began to part, revealing the hidden torso underneath and— 

It was nothing but _legs_ _(writhing squirming wriggling)_.

There were thousands of them clustered along Bad’s stomach. They were tiny, red, and heavily resembled that of a centipede. The legs would spasm and flex every few seconds, making it appear more like a gaping maw than a bundle of vestigial limbs; the white spurs running along them only completed the look _(like a hundred little teeth were rearing to tear him apart)_. 

Bad didn’t stop, even when his cloak had been fully pulled to the side, held open by the multitude of legs. He continued onwards, creeping closer to Sam until the two were mere centimeters apart _(until they were practically chest to chest and Sam could feel the thousands of legs flailing against his chest and sinking into his fur and scratching his skin and—)_

Sam repressed his urge to flee, to run away and never look back, but he couldn’t stop the tight whimper that escaped his throat. 

“ _Hush… there’s no need for fear, Sam. The C̶r̕im̷s̨on is loving, and this—”_ Bad gestured loosely around his chest area, the legs curling around his fingers as he grazed over them. “ _Is merely one of its many gifts._ ” 

Sam pointedly kept his gaze away from the legs, instead choosing to stare at where Bad’s face would be under the hood. With how things were going so far, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep up the act. Everything was getting more fucked every minute, but Sam persisted, doing his best to wrangle in his terror. He _had_ to do this, he _had_ to succeed, all for his friends. 

“How kind of the egg,” Sam said, keeping his voice as steady as possible and void of emotion. He already knew that he’d be unable to fake any sort of delight at the grotesque ‘ _gift_ ’. 

If Bad was bothered by his unenthusiastic response he didn’t show it, if anything he seemed to buzz at the reply. 

“ _Indeed, any gift that better help serves the Cri̸m̧son is welcome, and the best part is—”_ Bad pauses, seemingly gaining his bearings as he loomed over Sam, his voice lowering to a whisper. “ _It’s not over, yet._ ” He hissed, giddiness lacing his tone. 

Sam only filed it as another reason to destroy the egg, he didn’t want Bad to change any more than he already had. 

Suddenly, Bad pulled back, giggling to himself. 

“ _Oh, silly me. I had nearly forgotten to give you your induction._ ” Bad bubbled as the legs slowly retreated back under onyx skin. 

“Induction?” Sam questioned, his body tensing up as his fur stood on end. There was no induction the last time Bad and Ant tried to get him to join. 

Bad simply waved him off with a talon, humming slightly. “ _There’s no need to fear, Sam. This will only hurt a moment._ ” 

“I don’t want it to hurt at all!” Sam exclaimed, attempting to take a step back only to find that he was rooted in place. Thick tentacles held fast, unyielding no matter how hard he pushed against them. They were oozing that same pink viscous liquid from earlier, languidly rubbing it into his fur and further cementing him to the floor.

This wasn’t going to plan. 

“Come on, Bad. Induction’s a bit over the top, doncha think?” He pleaded, his breaths speeding up until he was hyperventilating. “Why can’t we skip all that and go straight to egg worship?”

Bad just laughed like it was the funniest joke he’s ever heard. “ _Eager to serve the Cr͡i̢ms҉on͡, aren’t you? You’ll make such a devoted s͞l̵̷a҉̛v͞҉e̵̵̡._ ”

The Demon then leaned down, reaching down a sharp set of talons to scoop up the pink substance from the floor, cooing softly at the thin tendrils that wrapped around his fingers. Sam watched, face curled into abhorrent disgust. He wasn’t going to do what he thought he was, was he? 

The slime dripped from his fingertips, falling in between like sand. Bad slowly brought his hand to the Creeper’s face, holding it inches away from his trembling lips. 

He _was._

Sam clamped his mouth shut, lips drawing into a thin line as he struggled. Amidst his moving, more tentacles pulled themselves from the floor, wrapping around his arms and tightening their hold on his legs. 

Oh _Gods_ , was _this_ how it was going to end? 

“ _Shh, Sam. It’s okay, just open wide, and it will be over soon._ ” Bad crooned, pressing the glob to his mouth and slathering it across his lips, causing the Creeper to cringe. It wasn’t cold like he had expected, _no_ , it was warm and pulsating. The feeling only made him clench his teeth harder, an action that made Bad frown disappointedly. 

“ _Tsk, tsk. Don’t be like that, Sam._ ” Bad scolded, reaching up his free hand to the other’s face. He then hooked a claw in between Sam’s lips, slowly pulling them apart to reveal pointed teeth. The Demon tapped a talon against them like he was knocking on a door, requesting entry. Still, Sam didn’t budge. He wasn’t concerned with keeping up an act anymore, all he wanted now was to get out of here in one piece. 

Snarling now, Bad wretched his hand away from his face, letting his mouth fall shut once more. 

Sam was nearly about to sigh with relief when he felt something pierce his stomach, long, sharp, and curved. Eyes darting down, Sam looked in horror at the hand Bad had plunged into his gut, edged talons slashing through fur and skin like wet tissue paper. 

It was quiet for a minute, with Sam just staring, mouth agape, at the open wound; his brain struggling to register that Bad— his sweet, innocent friend Bad— had _stabbed_ him. 

It was moments after that the pain set in. 

The fiery burning in his abdomen quickly became agonizing, excruciating, practically insufferable, and wished nothing more at that moment than to wake up from this horrible nightmare. After all, a nightmare it had to be, Bad would never do this, not to his worst enemy, and especially not to his friend—

Yet, the blood pouring down his stomach and dying his fur cri͡m͢s̸on and the hot flashes that turned his vision white pointed to it all being painfully real. 

So, he _screamed_. He shrieked and howled desperately, cries stemming from the mingling burn of an open wound the sharp sting of betrayal. He struggled in his bonds, hoping to at least free enough of his limbs to cover up his own gushing wound, but to no avail.

Bad, unperturbed by his friend’s apparent agony, took the screaming as an opportunity and lodged his hand down the other’s throat. Taking the time to ensure that most of the liquid he held successfully made it to Sam’s mouth. 

Sam’s wailing was abruptly cut off, quickly turning into choking as he tried to cough up the pink assaulting his throat. Bad’s grip held firm, and his hand didn’t budge, simply continuing to hold it against his mouth and preventing him from throwing it all back up. 

Bad leaned close to Sam’s ear, whispering softly. “ _Swallow it, embrace the Cr̛i҉mso͡n as it will embrace you._ ” The tone was comforting and would’ve made him feel safe in any normal scenario, but this was far from normal. It was a nightmare. 

Despite his hacking and heaving, Sam didn’t cough it up, couldn’t. The visceral liquid slid down his throat slowly, even swallowing didn’t make it go any faster. It coated his insides and sent tingles through his system, making him shiver slightly as his ceaseless struggling came to a halt and his frantic breathing evened out.

Then, there was nothing.

At that moment, he felt warm and safe, like a fuzzy blanket had encompassed his being. Even the flaring pain in his stomach was smothered under the haze of euphoria shooting through him. 

Bad chittered cheerfully in front of him, evidently pleased as he turned around to face the C̵r̡̛i͏m̷̶̡so͘n̡͏, bobbing his head at Ant expectantly. 

“ _Ant, won’t you come to patch up Sam for us?_ ” Bad asked, motioning a bloody hand to the gaping wound on the Creeper’s stomach. 

Ant, who had been lying down for a majority of the time, finally got up, stretching out his limbs and paws as he did. He paid no mind to Bad, instead opting to simply stare at his still-dazed friend with glazed ruby eyes. 

Sam, upon finally seeing Ant’s face, hardly reacted at all. The feline’s horrific features _(gaping maw, serrated teeth, torn ears, bald-spots accompanied by decaying flesh and fur)_ didn’t bother him as much as he expected it to. If anything, it was normal. After all, who would dare deny such a gift from the C̵r̡̛i͏m̷̶̡so͘n̡͏? 

Y͡o҉u’͏͞l͢͝l ̡̕ge̕҉̡t͜ y̵̡͟o̸͟͡ư͡r҉ g͏͠͝i̴f͘͠t͝͏ ̢too͝,̷̶ ̢S̵am͜͏.̵̷ ̶̛̛Y̵̡o̕͜u̢͝’҉̴l͝l b͞e̷͢ ̨̕͝j̨̧u͞s̢͜t͘͝ ̡l҉̸ik͠e̛ th̸͝em͟͡.̷̧͠ ҉

The tentacles surrounding his limbs loosened and dropped to the floor as Ant crept closer. Sam couldn’t help but note the limp in Ant’s hind legs as he walked.

Ant edged closer until he was directly in front of Sam, and once in range, he touched a tentative paw to Sam’s wound, making the Creeper hiss lightly. 

What remained of the cat’s ears twitched slightly, and he leaned down to grab a mangled pawful of that _awful wo̵n̴̡d̶e̴̸r̕f͘u̡͘l͟͢_ pink essence from before. He used his free paw to pinch what he could of the wound together, and rubbed a thin coat of the substance on it, causing the skin to stick together like glue. 

Seemingly satisfied, Ant grabbed the Creeper’s hand, shakily pulling him over to where Bad now stood at the C҉̨͠ri͝m͘͢s̴o͘n̴’s side. 

“ _Come now,_ ” Ant croaked, voice raspy and beautifully distorted. “ _Let us sleep together in the loving embrace of the Cr̸͟i̢̕͞m̴s̕͞on̷._ ”

Sam followed wordlessly, compliantly. With each step towards it, the more exhausted he felt. By the time he was in front of it, he felt like his limbs had been reduced to jelly and he could hardly keep himself up; the fuzziness clouding his mind only grew stronger. 

Ant assisted him in laying down against the C͘r̷͝i̸̧m҉s̢oņ, the Creeper’s lower half resting against its velvety outer-shell. Sam sighed tiredly, slumping against it as his limbs gradually started to relax. 

Once situated, Ant nuzzled into his side, lying limply on top of him and letting out a series of shrill, contorted purrs. Such a haunting sound would’ve been enough to frighten anyone else, but all Sam could hear was melodic music. 

As the Creeper’s eyelids grew heavier and his vision blurry, he could make out the hazy figure of Bad sitting in the unoccupied space beside him, feeling a leathery wing slip behind him to wrap around him and Ant. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this is actually one of the worst things I've ever written, but thanks for reading it anyway! I will personally pay for your therapy bills. :DD


End file.
